Foundation of Fate
by I love dance
Summary: Post-ANH short story; Luke, Han, Leia. Focuses on the developing relationships between the characters and the events that shape their eventually profound friendship.


Title: Foundation of Fate  
Timeframe: post-ANH  
Characters: Han, Luke, Leia  
Summary: Focuses on the developing relationships between the characters and the events that shape their profound friendship.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. ;)

This is intended to be a short story, but I'm not sure how long it will turn out to be. I really appreciate comments/reviews and take them to heart, so please let me know what you think! :) Thanks for stopping by and hope you enjoy!

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Han Solo made his way through the crowded party in a dream-like state. As he navigated through tables, chairs and unfamiliar faces, many people he didn't know congratulated him and offered words of praise. He just smiled, nodding occasionally, and tried to slip by as quickly as he could. All this hero worship just made him feel awkward and uncomfortable. He was no hero.

As he accepted a drink, his gaze settled on the true hero of tonight's celebration- the fair-haired youngster seated at a table nearby. Han headed over to it. Luke, one of the youngest pilots in the Alliance-if not _the_ youngest, and dressed back in his unmistakable farm clothes, stood out like a sore thumb. Hero or not, he was barely more than a child. His youthful idealism had gotten him caught up into this mess- and now, it seemed, the Corellian as well.

As Han approached the table, it became obvious that Luke had had too much to drink- the normally soft-spoken youth was laughing too loud and acting giddy. Solo frowned as he also noticed that the older pilots were getting a kick out of his inability to handle alcohol and kept encouraging him to drink more. He came up behind him.

"I think you've had enough celebration for one night, kid."

Han proceeded to remove the glass from the sandy-haired youngster's hand.

"Aww, Ha-an," Luke whined, the last word coming out as two syllables. "No…" he pouted further as the Corellian gave the drink back to the bartender. The youth ineptly tried reaching across the table for the glass. "I'm… not done yet." And with that last stretch sideways he proceeded to fall unceremoniously off the chair.

Solo caught his arm though, just in time. "Oh yes you are, Junior," he said decidedly, helping him down. Luke was extremely wobbly and could hardly stand. Han moved to support him under the arms and steered away from the table, rather irritated that they'd let the kid get to such a state. This had to be Luke's first encounter with alcohol- and it was obvious he couldn't handle it very well.

"What are they thinkin' giving you that much to drink?" he murmured, slightly disgusted.

Luke didn't seem to be listening. His blond head lolled slightly to one side as Solo progressed through the raucous crowd. The kid was about ready to crash. Han hoped he could make it to the spare bunk on the_ Falcon _without the Alliance's newest hero passing out in the middle of the floor. _That_ would attract attention.

Just as Han thought he and Luke were actually going to be able to escape their own party without a fuss, he ran into none other than her Royal Fussbudget.

"Hiya Leia!" Luke exclaimed, further giving away his pathetic state.

The Corellian rolled his eyes, defeated. Luke was wide awake now, and his normally quiet demeanor gone. "I didn't know you- hic- were here. Did you know she's here Han?" Luke flashed one of his brilliant smiles. "Shee, she's right there!" He pointed.

Han looked somewhat guilty. The Princess seemingly ignored the tow-headed, underage drunk. Instead, she cast a disapproving glare at his older friend behind him.

"A fine influence you make on him, Han. Two hours and he's already picked up your drinking habits."

"_My_ drinking habits?" Han was insulted. "I didn't give him anything. Everyone else kept giving him stuff. I _saved_ the poor kid."

Luke hiccupped quietly and covered his mouth, continuing to shake silently every few seconds.

"No, this," Han nodded down at the wilted, hiccupping, farmboy in his arms," "is Rogue Squadron's doing. Models of excellence, aren't they?"

Leia's gaze fell on Luke again, her anger quickly fading into slight disgust and concern. "Han," she began, "he's…"

"Sloshed. I know." Han started forward. "That's why I'm tryin' to get him outta here."

Luke smiled, giddy. "Who's sloshed?" His legs nearly gave way and Han tightened his grip on the slight form.

"You, kid. Now come on. Don't worry, Princess, I'll take care of him," he added.

Despite her concern, Leia couldn't help but cover a smile as they moved past her.

"Am not," she heard Luke say sulkily.

The noise from the party grew dim as spacer and farmboy moved through the hangar. Soon as they were out of view, the Corellian stopped to reposition Luke. It was a long walk back to the _Falcon_ and the kid's legs were becoming increasingly wobbly. It would be easier just to carry him.

"Do you think she noticed me, Han?"

"Who, kid?" Han proceeded to crouch down, his back to Luke. He motioned for the youth to climb on. "Put your arms around my neck." Luke obeyed, albeit somewhat clumsily.

"The Prin –hic- cess."

Han felt a grin spread across his face as he stood. "Oh, I'm sure she did."

"That's –hic- good." Luke sounded nothing more than a child and he laid his head wearily on Han's shoulder. He was quiet for a long time and Solo thought he'd fallen asleep. Han could hear him breathing softly, steadily, blond hair soft against Han's neck, which the boy's arms wrapped trustingly around. Solo began to feel strangely protective, as if the youth he was carrying was the little brother he never had.

A minute later Luke stirred and moaned, shifting his head. "Don't feel good," the boy murmured.

_Uh oh_. Han thought. _Here it came_. Luke would probably spend the next hour or so puking his guts out, he reflected grimly.

"I can't imagine why," was all he said. He was still irritated with the people who'd encouraged the kid to drink like a drunk.

Luke moaned again, latching his arms tighter around the Corellian's neck in obvious discomfort.

Han's features softened. "Hang on, kid," he encouraged. "We're almost there." He quickened his pace and it was a good thing he did.

"Han, hurry," Luke moaned, when they were nearly to the ship. "I f-feel sick."

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying," Han sped up quickly. He had to make a mad dash up the ramp and straight to the fresher, where he deposited Luke on the floor next to the recycler just in time.

The youth then proceeded to cough and choke up what seemed to be every drop of the excessive alcohol he'd consumed in the past two hours. Han sympathetically rubbed his back for a few minutes as the kid knelt there trembling. Luke finally looked up at him, blond hair disheveled, face blotchy and streaked with tears.

"Next time you'll think before you drink so much," Han said, though gently. "Won't you?" Luke merely stared at him, expression so pitiful and dejected Han immediately regretted the words, and instead felt the urge to dry his tears. He wiped Luke's mouth, then filled a small cup with water and handed it to him. "Here, sip this."

Luke raised it to his lips with a hand he was unable to steady and Han gave into the protective urge; he took a tissue and dried Luke's tear-stained cheeks. He wasn't used to being so nice to anyone, but for some reason it came naturally with Luke. The kid had a way of making him feel like some sort of big brother. It came so easily it was unnerving.

"Just stay there for a minute," he told him when Luke had attempted to get up. "Be still." He absently brushed at a piece of hair that had fallen in Luke's eyes. The flaxen-haired farmboy was obviously not accustomed to feeling so sick.

A few more minutes went by and Luke managed to keep the water down. Han thought it might be safe to move him to a bunk. He took the now-empty cup and set it back on the counter.

"You think you're done getting sick?"

"I _hope _so," Luke croaked.

"I hope so too, kid."

Luke made a weak attempt to rise, only to have Han start gathering him up. "You're too wobbly. I'm gonna tote you." Solo scooped Luke up off the floor, noting for the second time that the youth was nothing to carry. "I don't think there's a thing left in you. You must feel like you've thrown up all your insides."

"Yeah," Luke agreed shakily. He had to smile faintly at Han's accurate description.

"Been there, done that." Solo said, dredging up unpleasant memories. He carried Luke out of the fresher and headed for the spare bunk, glad Chewie was already asleep. He didn't need the Wookiee accusing him of "going soft", as he'd done earlier that day, much to Han's annoyance.

"Best thing to do is just sleep it off."

"So I'll feel better tomorrow?" Luke was hopeful.

Han hesitated.

Luke frowned.

"I wouldn't count on 100%, kid." Solo gave into a chuckle. Then he added reassuringly, "But yeah, you'll feel better." Han set Luke down and reached for a pillow from the shelf above the bunk. "Here." He helped the exhausted youngster get settled in.

What a day the kid had had, Solo realized as he retrieved another blanket from the storage cabinet and draped it over Luke's tired form. Cheek pillowed on one hand, sandy hair tousled and spilling into his eyes, the youth looked dreadfully vulnerable- barely more than a child. Not old enough to be fighting in a war or destroying battle stations, going up in fighter ships that were likely never to return. And here he was caught up in the midst of it by himself.

Solo felt a pang of remorse. It was a good thing the kid had been drunk tonight, he reflected, or otherwise everything might have overwhelmed him. Sooner or later, the past few days were going to catch up with Luke. They still hadn't really caught up to the Corellian either, but he didn't want to think about it right now.

"I'm gonna go try and get some sleep myself, kid. You okay now?"

Luke's expression read discomfort, even with his eyes closed. Han could tell just by looking at him he had a headache. He frowned. "I'll get you some painkiller."

Luke nodded slightly, gratefully, too tired to do anything else.

Solo returned a few moments later with a cup of fizzade, a couple of painkillers, and a wet washcloth. After Luke had swallowed the medicine and got a few more sips of the cold drink, Han helped him lay back down.

He folded the cold rag and draped it over Luke's forehead. Blue eyes fluttered closed and Han's expression grew strangely tender. "You need anything else, kid, I'm right in the next room."

Luke surprised the Corellian by reaching for his hand. Feeling that awkward protectiveness again, Han returned the grip on the somewhat smaller hand and gave it a squeeze before moving away to turn off the main lights. He left the dim cabin lights on though in case Luke needed to get up.

"Night, kid," he said, but the exhausted young Rebel was already asleep.

The Corellian made his way to his room. It was only a few minutes more before he was asleep too.

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to be continued...

Comments/Reviews greatly appreciated. :)


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